


Melted Flame

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Series: Black Roses Red [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alana Grace, Family, HIM - Freeform, Love Letters, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean writes Gabriel letters. It's a hard habit to break. But not everything he does is in vain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melted Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Song Featured: My verse is named after Alana Grace's "Black Roses Red". Lyrics are from HIM's "Wings of a Butterfly".  
> "Black Roses Red" verse: This is the 2nd fic in the collection.   
> A/N: For some reason, I have always loved the idea of writing letters. To me they're not just pieces of paper, they are a way to communicate. They're like photographs, bookmarking a special moment, years or days of loneliness, secrets of our lives, containing confessions that are too painful to say face to face. They are traditional yet they are timeless, easily flammable yet undying. The words stay in our hearts and melt into our souls. A letter can say everything all at once or nothing at all. I worked really hard on these letters to try to get them perfect, so I hope you enjoy them.

Word: Candle

~Heaven ablaze in our eyes __  
We’re standing still in time  
The blood on our hands is the wine  
We offer as sacrifice~  


He writes letters, which makes no sense because Gabriel is alive, lives with him, sleeps in the same bed as him. But maybe loving someone means more than just a physical connection, at least that’s what Dean Winchester ponders. He feels close to the archangel as he writes to him, a closeness that can’t even be duplicated with the feel of him in his arms, when Gabriel enters him and leaves him gasping and catching his breath in the aftermath.

There’s something humble about pen and paper, something eerily beautiful in a way he can’t describe. When he knows he’s writing to Gabriel he feels such power, welling up inside him and flowing down into his hand, into his pen, forcing him to reveal all his embarrassing emotions, to get out exactly what’s inside. Afterwards it’s a relief, he doesn’t feel so weighed down, there’s nothing pent up in him anymore, squeezing the life out of him. 

He isn’t even bothered by the fact that Gabriel’s not actually receiving his letters. It’s more than likely the archangel knows nothing about them. And it’s sort of better that way. 

 

_Dear Gabriel,_

_I miss you. I know I say that a lot but I do. And it sucks that I won’t get to see you when you come back, I’ll be asleep. You can wake me up you know, you don’t have to feel guilty. I wish I could feel you here right now, snuggled up to me, telling me you love me when you think I can’t hear you. Only I can, and I love it, love you for it._

_Today was really boring. Tried to read a book but I couldn’t keep my concentration on it. I think of you, all the time, it’s really hard not to. Remember that time you took me to a bookstore, and I bought that book on favorite sex positions? You kissed me and told me in the end that was the last thing that mattered to you, that you loved me regardless of how I put out._

_I want to thank you for that, want you to know how much it meant to me, how much pressure it took off my shoulders. Because sometimes I feel like I’m failing you, for so many reasons, but when you said that I knew I wasn’t. There’s no way that I could ever fail you._

_So… anyway… bored and missing you. Wish you would come home now, wish I didn’t feel like I have to write this stupid letter. But here I am… writing to you._

_From,_

_Your Dean_

 

Dean writes letters, and he writes them on the nights that Gabriel is not with him. He feels lonesome, homesick without Gabriel and these letters help him in more ways than he can count. He stores them in an overstuffed envelope when he’s finished, hides them under his mattress and then crawls into bed, smiling a little. Sometimes he thinks about whether Gabriel knows, whether he reads them when he comes back in the middle of the night, when he’s asleep. Sometimes he wishes he knew, even if it would be nerve-wracking beyond belief. 

More than anything he wants Gabriel to know how much he thinks about him. All the time. 

The letters vary in their length. Sometimes, when he is emotional and has so much to pour out, the letter may be several pages front and back, filled with so many words there’s no way in hell he’s going to read it over again. He just stuffs it away and moves on with his life. Other times, like when’s he’s too exhausted to unload, the letters are short, only a page or a paragraph or a few words, which doesn’t really make it a letter at all. 

It’s not the quantity that matters though, it’s the quality. It’s the things he says and the things he talks about. It’s the way he pours his love into every word. Every goddamned letter of every painstaking word. 

 

_Dear Gabriel,_

_I’m in a really bad mood for some reason. Sam’s not talking to me, claiming I’m too controlling. He should see how controlling I can really be. The stupid argument we got into today was all over me telling him not to go on a hunt on his own. Yeah, he’s a good hunter, and I know you keep on telling me that. But I’m still worried, and pissed off considering he just went behind my back and I don’t know where the hell he is now._

_It’s not that he doesn’t want to hunt with me, it’s that I’m just not ready to get back into it. Not after that last gig. And I know it’s time to move on but I can’t, and I hate Sam for trying to force it on me like this._

_Really need you right now. To try to calm me down. Please, Gabriel._

_I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say. It feels like I’m alone even though I know I’m not. Know I have you and I am lucky for that._

_Please just get down here. Before I break something._

_Forget it, I’m just tired, need some sleep…_

_From_

_Dean_

 

He’s never reread a single one of them since he’s written them. Some days he wants to, just cause he’s so bored and just wants to remember exactly what came out of his head and flew onto the page. Some days he wants to burn them in the backs of the motels he stays in. And then that one time, he had that insane urge to show them to Sammy. What the hell was going through his mind that day?

He looks at the envelope and fingers it the nights he doesn’t have the guts or strength to write. He’s come close to igniting it once, sticking it near a candle flame and watching it blacken for a few seconds before his hands shook so badly he had to pull it away, stick it back under his mattress. 

He hopes Gabriel can’t see him, know what he’s doing, see how stupid he is. It drives him nuts to think about this, to think about whether he knows. Because Gabriel is so complex and so secretive, would he really admit to knowing Dean writes letters to him? Does he secretly laugh at him, waiting for the day for Dean to admit it? He doesn’t know, and maybe he doesn’t want to know. 

He’s running out of paper, he doesn’t use the cheap lined crap or sticky notes. He started with this nice paper he found in some motel in Nevada, and now he has to go to stationary stores specifically when he needs more. He doesn’t care though, writing to Gabriel on nice paper with an expensive pen means more to him than he ever thought it would. 

Then again, he never thought he would be writing letters to Gabriel a few months back. 

 

_Dear Gabe,_

_I want you to know you can open up around me. Last night you seemed so distant, like you wanted to talk to me but felt like you couldn’t. You should never have to feel like that. I’m here, and I want to be here for you too._

_I could tell you were pissed off about something, and I hope you can understand why I didn’t want to push. Even though I should have. You blow up at me a lot and it hurts, but it comes nowhere near to this pain, realizing that you won’t talk to me and you feel like I don’t want to hear about your problems. I do, Gabriel. I do want to hear about the life you have away from me._

_The anger and agony you feel radiates off you in waves, I can feel it when you crawl into bed, when you lie there next to me without touching me and it’s like I don’t even exist. I can hear your loud sighs and it’s like you want me to wake up, but don’t have the heart to do it yourself. I feel bad, I feel really bad but I’m so exhausted and I don’t have the guts half the time to face you._

_BTW, me and Sammy are one big happy family again. Yet as he seems to be coming closer, you seem to be drifting farther away from me. Why is that?_

_And is it my fault?_

_Love,_

_Your human_

 

He writes a love letter one night, the night that he can’t take anymore, where he comes closer than he’s ever been to burning each letter, one by one, heartbreakingly slow. He doesn’t want to risk the chance of Gabriel ever finding them, or if he knows about them and isn’t telling, to be used against him. The things in these letters are too personal, too stupid to ever mention, to keep alive and tucked away into a worn old envelope. 

It’s a poem, a strange little love poem, but the urge to write it grabs him and doesn’t let him go till it’s written. He writes it quick and then looks at the envelope for a very long time, finally tucking the letter into it and placing it back where it belongs. An hour later he can feel the words eating away at him, suffocating him and making him toss and turn until he finally gives in. He crawls out of bed and uses a candle to burn it, just that one specific letter. 

Dean watches it light up in flames and doesn’t pull his fingers away until he can physically feel them being burned. He blows it out before it can get out of control and scoops the charred remains into the nearest trashcan. Then he crawls back into bed, not thinking for a moment more on that letter, and he doesn’t wake up till the next afternoon.  
Gabriel is there when he awakens, sitting on the end of the bed, turned around and staring at him. Dean sits up and rubs his eyes, relieved he’s here but wondering why he isn’t closer. Something must be up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean blinks a few times, wonders what he’s talking about before Gabriel places two fingers on his forehead and he’s out, collapsed back on the bed to sleep for another twelve hours. 

 

_My love for you is like a million stars,_

_Twinkling in the dead of night,_

_Keeping me warm when I’m alone._

_The only feeling I want to feel is you,_

_Your smile lighting up my life,_

_Shattering my breath into pieces._

_It’s too hard to tell you, to say properly,_

_Those three little words I scream to you,_

_In my head over and over constantly._

_I think I love you._

_No, I know I love you._

_Some days I just don’t know if you love me._

 

He wakes up to find Gabriel’s hands cradling his head, his candy coated lips on his own and kissing him deeply, tongue rolling around gently in his mouth. Dean moans in happiness and Gabriel pulls away to smile and roll off of him. 

“What’d you do to me?”

“Whatever I want, Dean," he kisses him again and Dean realizes whatever Gabriel wants isn’t so bad after all. 

He’s still a little freaked out though on why he knocked him out and forced him to sleep for so long. Although, it’s not that overwhelming at the moment to worry about. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me to go back to sleep if you weren’t ready to see me yet?”

He receives a grin and Dean stares at him, waiting impatiently for an answer. But Gabriel’s answers, more often than not, come in the form of grins, not words. 

“You’re a wonderful writer, Dean.”

He blushes bright red and Gabriel leans down to kiss both his cheeks. 

“You had no right.”

“Really? Considering they were addressed to me?”

Dean turns away but his head ends up in Gabriel’s hands again, and it’s turned to look back up into Gabriel’s eyes, who returned to his position above him. There’s something in those eyes, not his usual trickster self but something more like love and even understanding. Dean wonders how much he actually read, how serious he actually took the letters. He knew he should have burned them all. 

Gabriel smiles a little sadly and Dean becomes mesmerized. 

“I’m sorry I’m not around as much as I’d like to be. But I’m going to change that. I miss you too, Dean. And I love you.”

He hugs his human tightly and Dean’s arms slowly wrap around his back, hugging him in turn, unable to control his bright and relieved smile. 

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m ignoring you. I never forget about you, Dean. Never.”

“How’d you find out?”

Gabriel pulls away and laughs, “Under the mattress, Dean, really? I would think you’d have more sense than that. Besides, your thoughts are so loud I can practically hear them. Plus you can’t exactly hide going to those card shops, not really your style, Deano. I am touched though.”

Dean smiles, he doesn’t really care anymore, all that matters is that Gabriel is here. Gabriel understands and Gabriel loves him. And a huge amount of stress has been lifted off of him now that Gabriel knows. He knows Dean so well now that he hopes the archangel likes what he sees. 

“I love what I see.”

“Gabriel, get out of my head.”

The archangel chuckles and kisses Dean lightly on the lips, “Chill, Dean. It’s all over your face anyway.”

“So does this mean things are gonna change?”

His archangel nods and lies back down to snuggle in beside him. Dean turns over to stare at him, noticing what looks like a change for the better written all over his face. 

“Glad you’re back, Gabe.”

Gabriel strokes his face softly and smiles, the brightness of it nearly blinding his human, “Glad to be back.”

 

When the next day comes Gabriel is gone, the only remainder of him being the sheets rumpled on his side of the bed, and his scent, one of caramel and vanilla nougat, hanging in the coldly vacant air. Dean doesn’t worry too much, he knows that Gabriel will keep his promise, that he won’t keep on leaving to do whatever the hell he does. 

That doesn’t stop him from being disappointed though, that is, until he sees a piece of paper lying on his desk, familiar stationary, the pen’s last writer mysteriously forgetting to click it off. A letter. 

It’s a letter. 

Dean walks over and unfolds it, somehow thinking it’s not one of his. Did Gabriel write him a letter? And should he really be surprised if he did?

 

_Dear Dean,_  


_I will always love you._  


_Love,_  


_Your Gabe_  


_P.S._  


_The poem is beautiful, just like you._

 

How the hell?

He has no idea how he got a hold of that letter, but there’s no way that he could have saved it from the flames. He watched it burn, he threw the last remnants away. Unless…  
The only way was that he must have read it when he had been asleep, in that hour between writing it and finally putting it to destruction in the midst of it strangling him. But Gabriel let it burn… and he didn’t keep it like Dean had thought he would. 

He hates that he’s embarrassed, he’s sick of feeling it. But the poem was stupid, when he reread it there was no way it could have come out of his head. That last line… it made no sense. Did he really feel that at the time? He knew Gabriel loved him, there was never a doubt in his mind. Was there?

When Dean reverts back to himself, feeling the comfortingly thick paper in his fingers, he reads it again, letting the words sink in. That they came from the hand, the mind of the one person he loves the most. 

Dean can’t help but smile and he reads the letter ten times more that night, loving how the words sound in his mind, imagining them coming from Gabriel’s mouth. He crawls back into bed when he’s too exhausted to not see the words turn into dizzying little blurs. And even though he’s alone, it’s just about the closest he has ever gotten to Gabriel.

 

Don’t ask how Dean knows, he just does. That when Gabriel comes back the next afternoon he’s not gonna be leaving again for a while. It doesn’t need to be said, it is felt by the way the archangel collapses onto their bed, immediately snuggles up to Dean and kisses him so slowly and surely, Dean’s sure it’s meant to last a lifetime. And he wouldn’t mind if it actually turned out to. 

When Gabriel pulls away he looks so beautiful Dean never wants to tear his eyes away from him again. If the archangel is in his head this time he doesn’t make it known, just stares at Dean in a way that says ‘I will never leave you again’. 

Gabriel stares him straight in the eyes when he says, seriously, “I need to talk.”

“I know," Dean pulls him closer to him and leans in for another kiss, "I’m listening.”

 

_~Come on, and show them your love_  
Rip out the wings of a butterfly  
For your soul, my love  
Rip of the wings of a butterfly  
For your soul~

**FIN**


End file.
